


Lady Solace

by MundaneChampagne



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Background fShakarian, Can I write an entire story composed of quiet scenes?, F/M, Homefront on the Citadel, Yes yes I can
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-25 21:08:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13843074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MundaneChampagne/pseuds/MundaneChampagne
Summary: "How did we survive that? Not just walking away from the war with our lives, but with hope? With love? After everything we saw, how could people go on?"Looking back on those days, they seem unreal. But they were real. I lived through each and every one. Yet sometimes, everything seems like a blur. A dreamscape. Like looking at something underwater, trying to see past the ripples to what is really there."We survived the war. And I can't let myself forget how we did it."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Burning_Nightingale](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burning_Nightingale/gifts).



_"Garrus told us what was coming, told us to prepare. And we tried. But we weren't ready._ I _wasn't ready."_

 

"Solana!"

Solana Vakarian spun around in her chair. "Dad, I'm working."

"Grab your bag," he said simply. "We have to go."

Shit. "What, _now?_ " It was a gorgeous day, the first they'd had in a while—warm, sunny—a day like this?

"Yes." He turned and left the room.

She didn't bother to turn off her computer. If today was the day, then the company's data analysis could hang for all she cared. Solana grabbed the bag next to her bed, packed and waiting for months now. Waiting for today.

She slung the bag over her shoulders. "I'm ready!" she called.

Her father had his own bag. "Come on."

They left the house without a backwards glance, Solana very aware that it was probably for the last time.

"Why haven't they sent out an evac alert yet?" she asked as they hurried through the cobbled streets of the Old City. From all appearances, it was just another ordinary day in Cipritine, people going about their business as usual—she bumped into someone in her rush and ignored the angry shout.

"Should be any moment now," her father replied. "I got advanced notice. The fleet's moving into position, and once it's safe for the shuttles, they'll broadcast it—"

He was interrupted by the loud siren that drowned the city. "There it is," she whispered, hefting her bag further up on her back.

The ordinary movement of people on the street soon turned into a rush. Some people rushing to their homes, no doubt, to grab loved ones, belongings. Others, rushing to the nearest shuttle location.

Even with the sirens ringing in ears, everything was orderly. Hierarchy citizens knew better than to create chaos in a moment like this.

And then the first _thing_ touched down.

It shook the world. Concrete cracked underneath it. A loud vibration drowned out the sound of the evac sirens. Solana looked up, took in the sight of the towering monstrosity, its legs sitting on the ground of _her_ planet, threatening _her_ life and _her_ people.

She grabbed her father's hand so they wouldn't get separated in the rush that suddenly became frantic.

Running, dodging, listening to screams as the Reapers landed, one by one, beginning to walk, beginning to destroy without discretion. A chunk of concrete landed where she'd been a second ago.

The shuttles weren't far. That was what got her through those desperate moments, counting her footsteps and estimating how many they had to go.

They were hurrying down the stairs in a wide plaza when she took a bad step. Pain flashed through her leg and she crumpled, missing a few stairs and falling heavily against the railing. All she could think about was the sudden absence of her father's hand from her own, the warmth of the concrete against her back. Solana looked down at her leg and nearly passed out as a wave of dizziness took her, her leg bent at an odd angle from what she could see past the spots in her vision.

In a flash, her father knelt down beside her. "Are you ok?"

"I—" she gasped. "Think it's broken."

"Can you stand?"

She might've asked for a minute, but they had no time. She furiously blinked the spots away, leaned on her father as he helped her up. He pulled her bag off her back and threw it over his shoulder. Supported her weight as they made their way down the stairs, Solana hopping on her good leg.

Every step was agony. Solana blinked tears away from her eyes. The lessening number of steps that seemed doable before, now seemed like an unimaginable gulf to cross.

It wasn't helping that she could hear a roar over her head; the first shuttles were leaving.

She squeezed her eyes tight and leaned more on her father, who slowed a bit. She remembered practicing evac drills as a child. Palaven was always ready for disaster.

But right here, right now, on what she assumed was a planet-wide scale?

Would there even be enough shuttles?

More shuttles rushed away from the port.

"Dad," she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment, trying to ignore the pain.

"It's ok," he murmured back. He stopped for a moment. "We'll make it."

A screech from a Reaper drowned out her thoughts, her world, even the pain. Ears ringing, she whispered, "We have to go."

"I know." He pulled her closer, took a little more of her weight. Her good leg was beginning to tremble from the strain. Another shuttle shot overhead, and Solana had to quash down a moment of nausea. After a moment, she could nod her head, and they set off again.

The rush was beginning to thin out. Solana didn't want to think about what that meant; shuttles packed full of people, hopefully safely away, but would there be any room left for them?

Just a few more blocks to go.

At one point, a Reaper got too close to them for comfort. A massive metal limb smashing down into the street, kicking up debris. Solana froze, and her father pulled them against the side of a building. "Just wait," he breathed. "It'll be gone in a moment."

And then it was and they could move, but a beeping coming from her father's omnitool stopped them. He flicked a mandible in annoyance, which pressed into Solana's face as she leaned on him, but stopped as he pulled open the message.

"The first round of shuttles is gone," he said. Solana's vision suddenly filled with static again _oh shit oh spirits we're going to die here_ _—_

"They're bringing more in," he continued. "ETA ten minutes." He paused as the display flickered out. "We should probably wait," he said. "The crowd at the shuttleport might attract those things' attention."

"Will we be able to make the second round?" she asked.

He paused. "I don't know. I've seen the evac plans and we should be able to get the whole city out, but in reality, I don't know."

The sunlight felt wrong on Solana's face. All of this was wrong. For a moment, she was grateful that her mother hadn't lived to see this day, the next moment she hated herself for thinking that, but then revised her opinion. It was better this way. As for the rest of her family… "Dad," she whispered. "Menae?"

He paused. "I don't know."

Garrus was good at surviving, she told herself. She'd get to see her little brother again.

They were the only people still standing in the street, everyone else in the area having made it to shuttleport. Or trapped beneath ruined buildings. Glass shards clinked on the ground as a window in a destroyed building gave out, some rubble falling down as well.

Through the dust from the destruction, and the sunlight haze, she could see a lone figure sprinting down the street. It dodged and wove through the debris. As it got closer, it slowed, and turned their way.

"Do you need help?" he called. Solana could make out a man dressed in a black coat, carrying a metal briefcase.

"My daughter's injured," her father said. "We're waiting for the next round of shuttles."

The man fluttered his mandibles. "I have a small ship. I can get you off-planet right now."

Solana could almost hear her father thinking, weighing the man's offer. "Dad," she said. "It's our best shot."

He made up his mind, and nodded. "Thank you."

The stranger shifted his briefcase to the other hand, and got on Solana's side. She threw her arm around his neck, taking a little more weight off her broken leg. Between the three of them, they could move much faster than Solana and her father on their own.

They hurried towards the shuttleport. More shuttles were settling down. The man pulled them away from the crowds and over to the private docking area. Solana could feel a vibration in her gut, and turned just to see a Reaper bearing down on them. "How far?" she cried, her voice undercut by the thrum of the Reaper.

"There—!" The man pulled them towards a small cargo runner. Her father again took all her weight as the man called up his omnitool and unlocked the airlock, the hatch opening with a hiss, and the Reaper—

The two men dragged Solana aboard.

Her father sat her on a bench in the cockpit, and helped her lift her leg up. "Keep it elevated," he murmured, ignoring her wince of pain, her horror at feeling the bones shift. He turned to their rescuer, whose hands were dancing feverishly over the controls, turning on all the systems. "Do you need a copilot?" he asked.

The man shook his head. "Only need one pilot." The engines ignited, shaking the ship. "Look after her. And hold on, this might get rough." With a jerk, the ship lifted off the ground. Solana felt her stomach swoop as they rose, and for a horrible second, they were fact-to-face with the Reaper. Dread coursed through her veins and then the ship tilted, and darted away.

Solana closed her eyes, not wanting to see. A voice came, "There's a medkit behind that panel," and then a clank, and her father's presence at her side.

"Solana, I'm going to give you a painkiller, ok?"

She nodded, and there was a brief sting in her neck, which was replaced by numbness in her bad leg. She let out a sigh, and opened her eyes.

Palaven was burning. The homeworld fleet moved as a massive organism, large dreadnoughts firing at Reapers and the tiny fighters darting around them like flies. On the surface of the planet, fires raged. And then, one of their moons—Menae—the pinpricks of gunfire from the surface.

"Garrus," she whispered. Her father twitched a mandible in acknowledgement, tapping at his omnitool. "Any word?"

"Local coms are down," he said, his mandibles now pressed tightly to his jaw. "I don't—" he was interrupted as the ship swayed and he lost his balance for a moment.

"Sorry," said their rescuer. "Trying to—" Another sway, and a piece of debris zipped by. "Need to get away from this."

There were no more footsteps to count. So instead, Solana counted the steps in their survival plan. They were on a ship, headed away from Palaven. Next—find safe harbor, probably the Citadel. Third, establish contact with her brother.

And after that?

"They won't be negotiated with," she remembered Garrus saying all those months ago. "They're set on their goal of complete extinction, and no one has been able to stop them."

So what could they do in the face of such an enemy?

"Shepard will find a way," her brother had said.

She wished that she could have that kind of faith in a person. As far as she knew, Shepard was still locked up by their own people.

And what could one human do against a threat like the Reapers?

Their rescuer punched the controls, and the ship shot into lightspeed. Her father plopped into the empty copilot's seat and sighed, letting his mask of calm and collected drop for the first time that day. Solana was familiar with that; it reminded her of childhood when he'd come home from the Citadel, and could let work go and just be a real person. She liked real-father better, but the professional one was very reassuring in bad circumstances. Like today.

She leaned over and grabbed the medkit, shutting the lid, and carefully slid it under her foot. Try to keep the leg elevated, the swelling down.  Her boot felt uncomfortably tight, but she wasn't sure if she could get it off without making things worse.

Their rescuer finally let off the controls, bringing the ship to a gentle glide. He sank back into his seat and let out a huff as well. For the first time, Solana got a look at him. He was young—maybe about her age. Wearing a black overcoat, which was unusual as far as turian fashion went, but the purple stripes on his face said Illium, so Solana supposed that fashion might be very different in the Terminus.

Her father turned to him. "We should get out of the system."

The man nodded slowly. "I expect the relay is jammed with traffic right now," he said. "We'd probably need to wait a few hours anyway. And I want to stay unseen."

Her father hesitated a moment, then bobbed his head in acknowledgement. "We didn't really get a chance for introductions," he said, holding out his hand. "Castis Vakarian. And my daughter, Solana. Thank you, for what you did."

The man shook his hand. "Lantar," he introduced himself. "I'm glad I could help." He paused. "While we're waiting," he said, "would anyone like some coffee?" He held up one of his hands; it was shaking. "Might help a bit."

Her father nodded. "That would be appreciated."

Lantar looked over at Solana, who shook her head. "Don't want to mess with the painkillers," she said.

He bobbed his head, then left his seat and slipped off into the back.

As soon as Lantar was gone, her father was up. He reached into the pocket on the wall that probably held permits and paperwork, and activated the datapad inside.

"Dad, what are you doing?"

He didn't look up as he paged through the information. "Something's not right here. This ship is a model commonly used for criminal activity. And he only gave us his first name." He paused a second. "And these permits are forgeries."

"Does it matter? He saved our lives."

"I want to know what kind of person we're travelling with," he said grimly. He set the datapad down on the pilot's chair, and picked up the briefcase that Lantar had carried aboard. He was about to open it when he turned around.

Lantar was standing there with two cups of coffee and narrowed eyes.

"Put that down."

Her father slowly set the briefcase down, his gaze not moving from Lantar. Lantar merely stepped forward, handed him a mug of coffee in silence. He put his own down on the floor and picked up the briefcase, took a quick peek inside, and satisfied that everything was all right, stashed it away under the navigation console. "Why are you going through my things?" he asked as he retrieved his own mug of coffee.

Her father just stood there, arms folded as best as he could with a mug of hot coffee. "I want to know what kind of illegal activity you're involved in."

"Dad!"

"Does it matter? Nothing violent. You're safe here."

"I want to know what you're moving with those permits."

"Dad, can you—?"

"Yeah, all right, I'm a smuggler." Lantar glared daggers at him. "And it's nothing that concerns you."

"I'm an officer of the law, it does concern me."

"Retired, from what I heard," Lantar snapped. "And nothing is being moved through the Citadel. You'd have no jurisdiction here."

"Dad!"

"Solana—"

"Can you stop being a detective, for once in your life?" Solana burst out. "He saved our lives and everything we know of is under attack. Nothing else matters right now."

"Solana, I—"

Lantar's eyes flew open wide and he nearly dropped his coffee in his scramble to reach the controls.

Both Solana and her father turned their heads to the cockpit window, and Solana gasped.

A Reaper was passing in front of them.

Leisurely, like it had nowhere to be in the world. It floated along at a sedate pace, lights blinking along its side, legs twitching lightly.

The cockpit lights went out and emergency red lighting turned on, bathing everything in shadow. The engine hummed as it powered down, and a light on the console started blinking.

"Shut everything down," Lantar muttered. "If that thing detects us—"

Solana's gaze was riveted towards the window. "Spirits," she whispered.

"I changed my mind," Lantar muttered. "As soon as it's gone, we're out of here. I don't want to even be in the same system with these things."

Her father turned to him. "Good. I need to get to the Citadel."

Lantar hesitated, then shook his head. "I need to get this cargo to Invictus as soon as possible. After that, I can drop you at the Citadel."

"Invictus?" her father said. "We can't delay. Solana needs medical care, and—"

"Invictus has perfectly good hospitals. And I'll wager that with all the people that'll be pouring onto the Citadel, that they'll be a lot less crowded."

"—and I need to assist C-Sec—"

"Dad," Solana hissed. "A day or two won't make much of a difference."

Her father turned to her. "In a crisis like this, every moment makes a difference."

"You're retired, they're not expecting you to be on duty right away! They'll understand—"

"And that's the other thing," her father said, turning back to Lantar. "How did you know I was retired from C-Sec?"

It was the first time Lantar seemed really thrown for a loop. "I—" he stuttered, and looked down. "You have a son, right? Garrus Vakarian?"

"Yes." Her father tilted his head. Solana could tell that he was genuinely surprised.

"He and I were—friends. A while ago." His mandibles twitched. "We—had a bad falling out. I haven't heard from him in a while." He looked up again. "But he told me about you—his family."

"You were friends with Garrus?" Solana asked, stunned. "When was this?"

"A few years back." He looked away. "On Omega."

"Oh," she muttered. That period of time when Garrus had just vanished, leaving nothing but bad excuses in his wake. Leaving her and her father to care for Mom. While she was dying.

Solana wasn't sure if she could ever forgive her brother for that period of time, but since their mother's death, and in the face of Garrus's dire warnings, she'd at least put it behind her.

"I didn't know when I picked you up," Lantar continued. "But then you introduced yourself—"

"I understand," her father said.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Solana glanced at the window every so often. The Reaper was continuing on its way.

When it finally vanished into the distance, Lantar rebooted the ship's power. "Invictus first," he said, "and I promise that you'll get your leg treated. And then the Citadel."

 

Invictus space was mercifully clear of Reapers. They set down in the capital, Shastinasio, on a strip of land conveniently right next to the hospital. Solana was admitted right away, and Castis Vakarian was told he couldn't see her until they finished.

"I never got your full name," he said to the smuggler as the man opened the cargo hold, which was stacked to the brim with mundane grey crates. No telling what was in them.

"Sidonis," the man said after a pause. "Lantar Sidonis."

Castis nodded, and kept a sharp eye on Sidonis as he double checked the crates. After a bit, a side door on the hospital opened and a volus rushed out.

"You got here just in time," the volus said to Sidonis. "We would've been in real trouble in a day or two."

Sidonis nodded, and passed the volus a datapad to sign. "I just hope it's enough. I have a feeling these medicines are going to be in high demand soon."

The volus bobbed his head. "Unfortunately. But we will survive. The people of Invictus are used to surviving."

Sidonis nodded, and the volus opened his omnitool, calling for pallet jacks to move everything.

Castis stood by and watched as the crates were pulled out of the hold one by one. There was a delay at one point, and curious, he keyed open one crate and looked inside.

Stacked containers of medicine. Antibiotics, pain relievers, anesthetics…nothing illegal. Just items that would normally be taxed at customs.

He shut the crate.

 

A few hours later, Solana was discharged. They'd given her a pair of crutches, and she balanced on them awkwardly.

"How bad is it?" Castis asked.

She grimaced. "Displaced fracture. Probably eight weeks to heal, then some therapy to strengthen the muscles again." She flicked a mandible out in irritation. "This cast _itches_ already, and I'm not allowed to touch it."

Her right leg was bound in a cast, a lightweight lattice that supported the broken limb while allowing it to heal. Castis remembered getting a similar one years ago for a broken arm. "I wish I could say the time goes quickly," he said, "but I'd be lying."

Solana sighed. "The quicker we can get to the Citadel, the better. I just want to sleep in a real bed."

They made their way back to Sidonis's ship. The smuggler was standing in the cockpit, holding a datapad, his mandibles twitching furiously. He turned to them when they came in. "I—uh. Something came up. I'm afraid I can't get you to the Citadel right away. I—it'll be a quick stop, I promise. And then the Citadel."

Castis grumbled. "We cannot afford any more delays! Not while the Reapers are still a threat."

"I'm sorry," Sidonis said desperately. "I just need to get this—" He gestured to the briefcase, sitting on the copilot's chair. "—to Omega by tomorrow."

"Omega? Absolutely not." Castis turned. "Thank you for your help, but we need to get a shuttle now."

Solana followed him as he exited the open airlock. "Dad, I'm not sure—"

"I'll ask at the reception," Castis cut her off. "There's got to be a shuttle to the Citadel sooner or later."

There wasn't. "Invictus is under lockdown," the receptionist explained. "Except for essential personnel and goods, no one is allowed to land or depart."

Castis's throat went dry. "So there's no way to get to the Citadel?"

The receptionist shook their head. "The colonial government's hoping that cutting traffic will keep us out of the eye of these Reapers. It's not like Invictus has resources to offer the Hierarchy."

Castis turned away from the desk, fuming.

Fine then. One more stop, then they'd no longer be beholden to a criminal. Solana could get some rest, and he could walk back into the C-Sec offices like he'd never left and offer his help.

Sidonis had waited. Castis was slightly surprised, then considered that the smuggler probably knew he was their only ride. "Thanks for waiting," he muttered.

Sidonis ducked his head. "I'll be as quick as I can. I promise."

 

Even at lightspeed, the journey between relays seemed to take forever.

Sidonis set Solana up in his own bed, where she immediately passed out. Castis grimaced. Assuming the Reapers hadn't already reached the Citadel, it could only provide safe haven for so long. He was sure that sooner or later, the center of galactic government would be besieged. And when that time came—

Where would a retired cop and his injured daughter fit in?

While Sidonis was in the kitchen, he opened the briefcase again, and pulled apart the protective packaging. There was a sigh from behind him, and he turned to find Sidonis leaning up against the wall. "What will it take to keep you out of my affairs?"

Castis ignored that. "Unregistered biotic amps," he said. "Enough to outfit an entire cabal. Why are these going to Omega?" He shut the briefcase with a snap.

"They're for a friend," Sidonis said. "I honestly have no idea what she's planning to do with them. Not my business. But I trust her."

Castis snorted. "You can't trust anyone on that spirits-forsaken hunk of rock."

"I trust her," Sidonis said firmly. And that was the end of that.

Even though this day was weighing on his spirit, Castis couldn't find it in him to try and sleep. Nervous energy was burning up his body.

Sidonis sighed. Castis turned around from his pacing and glanced at the smuggler, who was slumped over in the pilot's seat.

"For what it's worth," Sidonis said quietly, "I'm trying to help people. Medicine, food, resources—I wouldn't take weapons or illegal drugs. I—" He faltered. "I always admired that about Garrus. Whatever he did, he was always trying to make things better with his actions."

Castis paused, then grunted in acknowledgement.

"I know you don't like travelling with a criminal," Sidonis said after a moment. "But once we reach the Citadel, you'll never have to see me again. I'm—I haven't heard from Garrus in a while. But I'm glad I could help you two. Maybe pay back some of my wrongs."

 

Solana woke when her father touched her arm.

After a few minutes of wondering where she was and why her leg hurt so much, she regained her bearings and sat up.

"We're docked on Omega," her father murmured. "The smuggler's got his business. I'm going to take a quick look around their market. You should stay here."

Solana tipped her head back and forth. "Not like I could go very far anyway."

While the men were gone, she left the ship and sat on a bench in the docking area, just watching the people go by. Slipping into a lull against the sounds of ship engines, conversation, she replayed the events of the past day in her mind.

Reapers, she quickly decided, carried an atmosphere with them very similar to Omega. Red light, hulking presence, and the stench of fear.

She spotted her father in the crowd, a gun case clutched in his hand. She sat up, and he plopped on the bench beside her.

 "New toy?"

He opened the latches on the case and pulled out a brand new pistol. Solana recognized it. "Aren't those illegal in Citadel space?"

Her father twitched a mandible, and pulled back the slide of the gun. "Things have changed," he said, and turned to look at her. "If you don't think I'm going to do whatever it takes to keep you safe from these Reapers, than you're mistaken."

Solana swallowed as he set the gun back in the case.

 

Spirits, it felt like this day was never ending. Solana looked at her omnitool—at this time on Palaven, on an ordinary day, she would be wrapping up her day's work and figuring out dinner. Ordering out, maybe. That data analysis she'd been working on had been driving her crazy, too crazy to leave her with enough patience to cook.

But none of that mattered now. Who even knew if the company offices in Cipritine were still standing. Instead, she and her father had run for their lives, she'd broken a leg, they'd made a detour to Invictus, and now were sitting on a smuggler's ship on Omega while the smuggler himself was ordering takeaway for the three of them.

"…and extra sauce," Lantar said into his omni.

A scratching on the other end. "Ready in twenty minutes."

"Thanks."

Dinner was entirely silent. The ship's kitchen was tiny, so Solana took the only chair and the other two stood while they ate.

Her father didn't want to sleep. Solana knew this look on him; back when he was at home, he'd inevitably get a message from work and stay up all night working on whatever problem they couldn't handle themselves. He'd work to the bone, then crash. But he couldn't sleep until the problem was solved.

"Dad," Solana said, "you won't be any use to C-Sec if you're exhausted when we get to the Citadel."

Lantar insisted they take his bed. He had a small cot stowed away; in response to her father's look, he simply coughed. "I've—transported people as well as goods."

She wasn't sure if the pain in her leg kept her awake more that night, or if it was the unfamiliar surroundings, or if it was her father tossing, turning, and opening his omnitool every hour or so.

She wasn't sure of much at all.

 

Solana couldn't remember ever seeing Citadel space this busy. Or maybe she was imagining that the crowds of ships were greater than they actually were.

The docks now, they were definitely busier. Lantar wiggled the ship into a small berth, and when he let them out, Solana was taken aback by the sheer mass of people. It looked like a small town was forming out of shipping containers, people occupying every bit of available space. A tension in the air—waiting for something to snap.

She didn't want to risk moving through these crowds, not on a pair of crutches.

"I'm going to C-Sec," her father told her. "If you could look for lodging while I'm gone—"

"I can stay until I know you're settled," Lantar offered, which frankly was more than she would ever ask of him, but she appreciated it nonetheless.

So she steeled herself and squeezed through the mass of people, eventually finding a free Avina terminal.

And after suppressing an urge to scream at the VI after a half hour or so, she was beginning to understand the presence of the container cities on the dock.

The Citadel was running out of space.

The only rooms—hotels, apartments, boarding houses—left were the ones out of their price range. Or out of anybody's price range, for that matter. According to local Citadel news, people were starting to pile up containers—ships—anything that could be shelter—in free space, and the docks were turning into refugee camps.

Spirits. The Citadel was probably the safest place in the galaxy right now, and it was running out of space to house everyone who'd been displaced.

Including her and her father.

She envied Lantar for a moment. He had a ship, and no ties. No legal job, no responsibilities. He could probably just wait out this whole war in the middle of space.

And then her Hierarchy upbringing squashed that notion. She was a Vakarian. She had a duty, to Palaven, and to the galaxy. She could tough this out, and make a place for herself where she could help win this fight.

But first, she needed to find a place to sleep.

She dragged herself and her broken leg (which despite the painkillers, still hurt every time it was jostled) back to Lantar, which took a ridiculously long time because she got lost in the rows of small craft. He was sitting in the airlock, looking over his omnitool.

"What's wrong?" he said, looking up and seeing her face.

And much to her amazement, he offered to stay parked on the Citadel and house her and her father. "What will you do?" Solana asked.

He twitched a mandible, and looked away. "I'll find something. It's not like I had any jobs lined up anyway. I've been kind of living day-to-day since—well, everything."

Solana leaned up against the side of the ship. "Since what?"

He looked at her. "Since your brother tried to kill me."

 

"I think you need to tell me everything," she'd said.

They worked backwards. The stories coming out of Omega about a vigilante—that was her brother. Had been. Lantar Sidonis had been part of his team. He'd been captured by enemies, coerced into giving up their location. Everyone died, except her brother, and Lantar fled. Garrus tracked down Lantar, and nearly shot him in the head.

Solana's head was spinning. She knew there was a lot her brother hid from his family. But something of this magnitude?

Lantar simply twitched a mandible. "Garrus is a fighter to the very depths of his spirit. I'm not. I knew I wanted to help, because Omega is a crushing place to live and people deserved better, but I couldn't do what he asked of us.

"I'm not any kind of solider, Solana."

He'd deserted the military after an act of cowardice, he told her. Couldn't face his family, washed up on Omega.

Got wrapped into all the dreams and plans Garrus had.

"These Reapers…he did mention, once or twice. I hoped it wasn't true, but kinda knew it was." He turned away. "This…is much worse than anything I could ever imagine though."

She knew she should be angry at him; one act on Lantar's part nearly cost Garrus his life. But she didn't have it in her. Parts of his story resonated with her.

"I'm not a soldier either," she said.

They'd retreated to the bedroom because the kitchen was tiny and her leg was hurting so much. They sat on the edge of the bed.

He tilted his head at her. "A Vakarian but not a soldier?"

She shook her head. "Not the way Garrus is. I did ok in boot, but just couldn't stomach actually shooting people. Dad thought I should join C-Sec as well, but I flat out refused. Wound up in intelligence instead, as an analyst. That wasn't any better though, I hated the thought that lives actually hung on my recommendations." She shrugged. "After mandatory was up, I started doing organization analysis in the commercial sector. Not terribly interesting, but the only thing at stake was millions of credits. I can handle that."

He snorted. "I wouldn't be able to. That's more money than I can even fathom."

"Eh. It was a living."

They were quiet for a while longer. "I tried to turn myself into C-Sec," Lantar said after a few moments.

Solana turned to him. "For…?"

"For effectively murdering ten good people." He avoided her eyes. "They wouldn't. I—I hung around the station long enough that I eventually got slapped with a loitering charge and given a little community service. I don't…maybe it helped. I don't know."

"So how'd you get into the smuggling?"

A small grin tugged at his mandibles. "This ship was impounded. Used to belong to a drug runner, and his case was tied up in the courts. It'd been sitting in one of C-Sec's lots for years. I made a few bribes, got it erased from the paperwork, then ran off with it." He shrugged. "I wanted to help, but I know I couldn't fight anymore. I figured I could help people get what they needed instead."

His grin grew bigger. "First job I had, I traded for work on the ship. She's still an old junker, but she's actually habitable now." He gestured around the bedroom. "First thing to go was that old mattress. You don't wanna know."

Solana laughed, the tightness in her chest easing for the first time since the Reaper touched down on Palaven.

 

Later that day, she got a call from her father. Broke the news about the lack of housing, which he waved away impatiently, and told her to not wait for him to eat dinner.

Fair enough. She knew how he got when he was working. Give him another day, and then he'd probably be ready to actually talk with her, figure out what they should do.

She and Lantar ordered some cheap takeout. She figured it was probably better to go easy on money until they could figure out the situation on Palaven. It was likely that the Hierarchy would be requisitioning funds from well-off citizens to help fund war efforts.

Not that she would ever complain. It put her in mind of Garrus. As far as she knew, he was on Menae right now, possibly in the thick of the fight.

After dinner, they sat on the bed again, talked some more, Solana asking after stories of smuggling. She wasn't brave enough yet to ask Lantar about his time with Garrus.

When she started yawning, Lantar started to get up from the bed, but she tugged his arm. "Stay with me," she said. After everything, she didn't want to be alone.

He hesitated. "Are you sure your father won't be back tonight?"

She snorted. "Trust me. Once he can't stay awake anymore, he'll just pass out on the breakroom couch until they need him again. Why?" She looked up at him. "Scared?"

"He doesn't seem to take well to criminals."

Solana sighed. "I know. He's very…rigid…in his thinking. If he ever gives you a hard time, just remind him that you did save our lives."

She pulled off her shoes, and he removed his long coat, revealing very plain clothing. She carefully lay on her side, wedged a spare pillow between her legs to elevate the broken one. Lantar tucked himself in behind her. "This ok?" he murmured.

"Yeah," she said.

She still didn't sleep well, but better than last night.


	2. Chapter 2

_"In war, you can't take anything for granted. I counted each day, even while trying to live it as normally as I could. Each day that passed was another day of silence from my brother. After the first month, I was scared to hold out hope that he was alive._

_"But there was nothing to do about it except push on. And try to find joy in what we had left."_

 

It was scary, how normal everything could seem in the thick of war.

Solana spent her days holed up in the C-Sec offices, helping coordinate station logistics. Figuring out how to squeeze in more displaced people. Trying to reunite families. Finding ways for people to pitch in. Analyzing supply chains.

Lantar, for his part, did the actual legwork. He was working down on the docks, helping move and distribute supplies. "It's nothing new," he said to her one time. "I was making a living doing this on Omega for years."

Solana rarely saw her father anymore. He never came back to the ship to sleep; Solana suspected that one of his friends had put him up. Probably preferable in his mind to lodging with a criminal.

She was nearly asleep one night when Lantar got back. She was starting some therapy for her leg and it hurt, hurt, hurt.

"You awake?" he asked, light spilling into the bedroom as he opened the door.

"Mmf," she replied, too tired and preoccupied for a proper answer.

"Need painkillers?"

"Nooo." She groaned. "I need a day off."

"Well, see if you can get one. They should know that burning people out isn't going to win the war."

She carefully rolled over, making sure not to jostle her leg. "I don't know what I'd do. It feels silly taking leisure time when there's a war on."

He plopped down on the bed. "Can always play video games."

"Ugh. Garrus always beats me then rubs it in." She isn't quite aware of what she's saying.

He stilled for a moment. "He was never that good when we played with the team," he said after a moment.

Solana hesitated, not wanting to bring up bad memories for him. "So…if Garrus isn't that good, but he always beats me…what does that say about my skills?"

"I'm sure you're not that bad." He twitched a mandible and leaned back on a hand.

She groaned loudly. "I'm probably terrible."

"So don't play video games." He shrugged.

In some silly way, it helped. They got a day off, played video games, and didn't think about the war for a while. And for a change, she did pretty good. She wondered if Lantar was letting her win, but he denied everything. "I'm not very good either."

One day, she wanted to ask Garrus if that was true, or a lie. But even if they survived this and she saw her brother again, he might not be willing to answer.

 

The days passed in a blur. Her father took her out for dinner every so often, and occasionally dropped by her office, but other than that, she didn't see him much. When she really got a look at him, she was stunned to see the new wear on his face. His eyes were sunken, but they gleamed with a fervor she recognized. Garrus could get that look too. Garrus had gotten their mother's looks, but definitely had their father's tendency to work himself beyond his limits.

She couldn't do anything for Garrus right now, but dropped her father's supervisor a line and insisted that he be given mandatory hours off. So he could pretend to sleep, if nothing else.

The next time she saw him, he did look a bit more rested. He never said anything, but Solana knew that he knew that she'd intervened on his behalf. She mentally sighed. Her father would be a detective until the very end.

 

"Have you heard anything from Garrus?"

Solana perched on the edge of the bed, resisting the urge to scratch at her cast. She fiddled with her shirt sleeve instead, trying to distract herself. "No."

"Shit."

Solana glanced up. "If it's ok to ask, why are you concerned?" She tilted her head. "He did try to shoot you."

Lantar shrugged, and turned away, plopping down on the other side of the bed. "I deserved it," he said simply. "For a while afterwards, I wished that he'd succeeded."

"But not anymore?"

"Not anymore," he confirmed. "Things got a bit better once I had something to work on again. Something where I could see myself actually making a difference for people." He looked down. "I do care about Garrus a lot. We were very close. I just…don't know if he'd ever be ok with seeing me again, or if we could repair things. I'd like to though." He looked up again. "I know it was blind luck that we ended up here, but can I ask—you and your father don't look anything like Garrus. Except for the Cipritine markings. I had no idea who you were until we were introduced."

Solana touched her face, drew a finger over the faintly textured skin that the marking process left in its wake. "He always looked like Mom," she said. "And it's probably obvious that I took after Dad."

"Where's your mother?"

"She died." Solana closed her eyes for a moment. "A few months ago."

"Spirits. I'm sorry."

"Garrus actually got home in time to spend a few weeks with her," she said. "She was sick for years, and he just avoided seeing her at all. Really hurt her." Solana clenched the blanket, trying not to let her hands shake with anger. "I was always afraid she was going to die and he just would never come home."

"I'm sorry. I had no idea."

She sighed. "Yeah, I know. It's not your fault." She paused. "I'm just glad he had people looking after him. Especially with his tendencies. I mean, vigilante work? It's completely believable, I just never thought he'd actually have the guts to leave and try something like that."

Lantar snorted. "I was surprised _I_ had the guts to try it."

Solana turned to him. "So how did you get into the whole thing?"

"Garrus saved my life. I was about to get my head knocked off in a back alley. He killed the bastards."

Solana sucked in a breath. The thought was crazy to her. "Well, I'm glad."

He shrugged. "Garrus just kind of has this way about him. He had me dreaming about Omega being a better place, and had me believing that I could actually do something to get it there. He never accepted anything being the way it was. He always had to push to make things change."

"And there you have the reason why he never had much of a career," Solana said. "My father was incredibly disappointed in both of us."

"Which is stupid," Lantar said.

Solana tipped her head back and forth. "He's mellowed out a lot since he retired. I think some distance has been good for him."

Lantar was quiet. "My family probably thinks I'm dead."

That was a heavy note, and they sat in silence for a while. Solana yawned.

"I don't know how many more days of this I can take," Lantar murmured. "I hate it. Seeing people come in at the docks, just lost their family or friends or homes or everything. And we can't do anything for them except pack them in with everyone else and give them a bite to eat. It's not fair. To anyone."

Solana reached out an arm, and he snuggled into her side. It wasn't the first time they'd touched like this, but something felt different tonight. Like they were stripping back layers of pretense and showing more and more of who they were.

She dipped her head to his, and they touched foreheads. Lantar let out a breath, and she could feel him relax against her. This time, she nosed down his face, and pressed her mouth to his, gently at first, but with more force as he leaned into the kiss.

They fell back onto the bed, Solana getting lost in his warmth and the feel of his mouth plates on hers. His weight landed on top of her, and Solana loved the pressure of it, right before a bolt of pain shot through her leg. "Ow!"

Lantar immediately withdrew from her embrace and sat up instead. "Leg ok?"

"Yeah." She bent it slightly. "Just gotta be more careful." She grabbed a pillow and rolled onto her side, slid it between both legs.

"Here." He slid over to the other side of the bed, and pressed up against her back, wrapping his arms around her. "This ok?"

"Yeah." Spooning was stupidly comfortable. She pulled the blankets over them, and resolved to spend every night in his arms.

 

She had, she thought, gone too long without real touch. Because she drank up every moment she could get with Lantar now.

Waking up with someone curled around her was the best thing in the middle of this war. Someone to hold onto. Stability, an anchor, the rope the gentle little moments they shared over breakfast.

It got her through the day. A long, rough day, in which she was pulled away from her logistics duties into a meeting about security.

"It's impossible to vet everyone coming in," someone grumbled. "We're just admitting people on blind faith. Sooner or later, someone dangerous is going to slip through the cracks."

Her father snorted. "You're too late, you know," she said. "There's fragments of Blue Suns in the dock camps right now."

"And they're under control." Another officer's mandibles snapped tight to his jaw. "What we need to is to keep any more out."

Solana tuned their bickering out. She didn't have any input. The Citadel was currently the largest refugee camp in the galaxy. There was no way to secure it. Best, she thought, to focus on protecting the people who were here instead.

She left work dragging her heels, unenthusiastically grabbing some cheap dinner and heading back to the ship.

"They're right, you know," Lantar said over dinner.

Solana looked up. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. I've seen the permits on some of the cargo that comes in. Everything is legal and clean, but there are definitely some worrying people operating here."

"Shit," Solana muttered. She didn't want to think about potential attacks from the inside. Weren't Reapers enough without people using the war to advance their own interests?

He hummed. "Enough of that for a night. You don't get paid to worry off the clock."

Solana managed a small smile. "It runs in the family."

"I noticed."

She dropped her crutches and leaned up against him while he washed dishes. "Leave them alone," she murmured. "Can take care of that in the morning."

He tried to turn around, but stopped when she wobbled. "Why? You have something else in mind tonight?"

She wrapped her arms around him. "Yeah, I really do." She kissed his neck, and felt him shiver.

Lantar carried her to the bedroom, then went back to grab her crutches. She'd hiked her pantleg up and gave in to the urge to scratch around the cast. "Fuckin' itches," she muttered as he laid the crutches down.

"Don't think about it," he murmured, popping down on the bed next to her.

Solana poked out her tongue. "Make me."

So he did, kissing her mouth, nibbling at her mandibles. She gave as good as she got, and pulled him down on the bed with her.

He stilled for a moment. Solana tilted her head at him. "I don't have any condoms," he said.

She shrugged. "Probably couldn't do many positions with this leg anyway."

He sat up and moved between her legs. "How do you feel about oral?" he asked.

Solana grinned. "Fantastic."

So she shed her pants, working carefully around the cast, and lay back as Lantar went to work.

Gentle—so gentle. Glancing up at her every so often to meet her eyes, silently affirm that she was pleased. Solana simply basked, letting ripples of sensation roll over her, happy to let go of all the worries of the day. Her hand caressed under his fringe and he purred lightly, sending happy vibrations through her.

When done, he crawled next to her and snuggled into her side. She could feel his erection under his clothes. "Do you want—?" she asked.

He rolled over. "Mmm. If you want to."

"Well, I'm not doing anything fancy," she murmured, but pulled his pants down as well.

After, Lantar tucked her head under his chin and held her close. "Stopped worrying yet?" he asked.

"Ha. Never. Why? You don't worry at all?"

He fluttered his mandibles, brushing them against her forehead. "You do it enough for the both of us."

 

When the first shot rang out, Solana punched an emergency code into her omnitool, sending messages to her father and Lantar. She ducked under her desk, huddled up, ignored the stab in her leg from the sudden movement.

Waited.

The lights in the C-Sec office flicked off, and emergency red lighting came on. An announcement played: "Initiate C-Sec lockdown. Lock all doors, shut off all devices, and take shelter. This is not a drill, repeat, this is not a drill."

After a moment of silence, the message played again. And again. And again and again and—

Gunshots shattered the loop. There was a screech of feedback, and the announcement shut off.

Now, just the silence. Quiet breathing of the other people in her office, all huddled down as well. From somewhere in the room, a whispered prayer.

A heartbeat. And another.

Shouting from the hallway. A banging on their door. Then nothing.

A silent alert popped up on her omnitool. Solana leaned forward to read it, trying to mask the glow it gave off with her body.

 

> Cerberus. C-Sec HQ hit first. C-Sec holding other parts of the station. Unsure what their goal is. Distress signal sent, _SSV Normandy_ on its way. Hang tight.
> 
> —Castis Vakarian

Solana exhaled. C-Sec's worst nightmare come to pass, but not everything was lost yet.

The silence was the hallway was deafening.

What had to be a few hours later, the lights flickered on again. Solana looked up, unsure whether this meant that everything was over—or was it not and had Cerberus succeeded in taking the Citadel—?

"All clear. Lockdown is now lifted. I repeat, all clear. Lockdown is lifted."

Another message flickered onto her omnitool.

 

> We're safe.
> 
> —Castis Vakarian

 

Solana nearly dropped her crutches when she read the preliminary report.

A _coup?_ Aided and abetted by the _human counselor?_ Who was now dead, thanks to one Commander Shepard, but spirits. For Cerberus to strike at the heart of galactic resistance—and for it to be an inside job by someone who should've been trustworthy?

She slid onto a nearby bench and buried her head in her arms. This had to be some kind of nightmare. On top of the nightmare that was Reapers.

 

"Not many of them came down to the docks." Lantar flicked a mandible. "Just a token force, I think to try and keep people in place." He patted the pistol at his side. "We took care of them."

"I am fucking glad for that," Solana muttered. She shuddered. "If Shepard hadn't arrived, things might've gotten much worse." Maybe Garrus had been correct on where to place his trust.

"I know," Lantar said. He looked up. "Was your brother with the Commander?"

"I have no idea," Solana said. "Dad was trying to get ahold of him, but he still hadn't a few days ago."

Lantar pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and plunked down. "Shepard was the one who saved my life, you know."

"Saved your—?"

"From Garrus," he said simply. "She stood in front of his shot. And didn't move until she'd talked to me, and gotten Garrus to stand down."

Solana breathed out. "Thank the spirits," she said simply. "How is it that everyone in the galaxy seems to owe their life to one woman?"

"Dunno," Lantar said. "But I'm not going to question it."

He snagged her from behind as she was undressing that night. "I bought condoms," he whispered into her ear.

"That's very well and good," she said, "but how were you planning on doing this without my leg getting in the way?"

"Like this," he said, arranging her onto her side, and pressing into her back. Spooning, again, and Solana purred at the closeness. "Bend your legs," he instructed gently, and she moved her legs forward, figuring out where he was going with this.

He'd no sooner slipped into her when her omnitool rang. "Argh," she muttered, and went to turn it off, but stopped. "It's Dad."

"Better answer it," Lantar said. "I'll be quiet."

She opened the call. "Dad?"

"Solana." His voice was lighter than she'd heard it in weeks. "I finally got through to Garrus."

Her heart thumped. "Thank the spirits," she said. "Is he ok?"

"Alive and well, and accompanying Commander Shepard. He left with her from Menae."

Solana closed her eyes. "Tell him to get his ass here and actually see us."

"I already did," he said. "He'll have a few days shore leave soon. I'll let you know more when we figure something out."

"Thanks for letting me know," Solana said, and hung up.

Lantar had stilled against her back. "What's Garrus going to think about this?" he whispered.

Solana twisted her head around and flicked her mandible against his. "He's going to deal with it. But if you don't want him to know, I'm fine with that too."

Lantar breathed out. "I do want to fix things with him, but I don't know if having sex with his sister is going to help with that."

Solana shrugged. "So we don't tell him. It'll be ok. And if he finds out, and gets mad, I'll deal with him."

"Thank you," Lantar whispered.

 

A few days later when she left for work, Lantar behind her, she stopped dead on the docks.

Garrus was there, talking with her father.

She walked up to them as quickly as she could, leaving Lantar in her wake. "I thought you weren't getting in for another few days!"

Garrus turned, broke into a smile when he saw her. He looked physically exhausted, but also seemed happier than when he'd left. The scars on his face had healed over, leaving behind corded scar tissue in their wake. Solana had to admit, he looked every ounce the dashing, galaxy-saving, hero. "We got in sooner than we expected." He hugged her, being careful of the crutches. "What happened?"

Solana flicked a mandible ruefully. "Fell. When we were evacuating. Seems stupid now."

Garrus shrugged. "We've run from a few Reapers on foot. Doesn't seem stupid when they're chasing you."

Solana closed her eyes. "On foot? Please don't tell me these things."

Her father looked at his omnitool. "I have to get going," he said, clapped a hand on Garrus's shoulder. "Give me a shout later. We can all get dinner or something."

Garrus scratched the back of his neck, glanced down to the side. "Uh. Yeah. Busy all day, but I should be able to get tonight free." He mumbled something about "taking Shepard out", and Solana punched him.

"Is that a hint of a love life I hear?" she teased, but almost immediately regretted opening that line of conversation. Garrus just stuck his tongue out at her.

And then his head snapped up, and his eyes focused on something behind her.

Solana turned. Lantar was leaning up against a wall, pointedly not looking at them.

"Garrus," she said. Garrus didn't move, his mandible pressed tightly to his jaw.

"Garrus, look at me."

He finally did, and Solana caught his eyes. "Garrus, I know what you're thinking, but he saved our lives."

Garrus's mandibles opened slightly. "What?"

"He got Dad and me off Palaven when we were stuck waiting. So whatever you're thinking of doing to him, don't."

"I—" Garrus blinked, and closed his mandibles. "Ok." He inhaled. "Ok."

"Good," Solana said, and hugged her brother again.


	3. Chapter 3

_"The war was our new normal. It seemed impossible to remember a time when we were at peace. When my only worry was what I was going to do with my life, and how I would make my family proud._

_Thinking back on the memories of my childhood was like watching a reel of someone else's life. How had that idyll turned into this?_

_The scary part was that I couldn't remember that either."_

 

"You look really nice."

Solana grinned. "You look really nice too."

Lantar flicked a mandible. "I'd take your hand, but…"

"Yeah yeah, crutches, I know." Solana brushed it off.

It was six months to the day the Reapers touched down on Palaven. "We're not dead yet," Solana declared, "and that deserves some kind of celebration."

Most of the work day, she was going without her crutches, but she wasn't too confident going without them in crowded public spaces yet. Luckily the nice restaurant wasn't terribly packed. The maitre'd took them in with an enthusiastic greeting, and led them to a secluded table with chairs instead a booth. All the easier for Solana to lean her crutches up against one side of the table and slide into her seat.

Lantar did clean up very well, she admitted. It wasn't that he was normally a mess, just that he didn't go to any real lengths to look good. Which made the contrast tonight all the more striking. He looked very handsome in a nice suit, and his turquoise eyes glinted in the dim light of the restaurant, instead of being cast down like they usually were.

Being back in formalwear felt strange for her, but she brushed that feeling aside and just enjoyed wearing nice clothing for what felt like the first time in years.

They chatted about nothing as they worked their way through appetizers. This restaurant was classy enough to not have any vidscreens around, and this meant no reminders of the war. Nothing to distract them away from the luxury of idle conversation.

The lights flickered briefly, then went out, leaving only the candles on each table as a source of illumination.

They chatted right through it. Brownouts were common on the Citadel these days as energy resources were overextended in some areas. Losing power was just becoming another normal feature of life in a galaxy at war.

After a few minutes, the lights came back on again, and she heard a waiter sigh with relief.

The food was fantastic. It cost more than Solana would usually do for dinner, but they really did need something nice every once in a while. The days would be a blur without it. Time to relax, take their minds off of things—

The evening would've been nearly perfect if it weren't for a slight vibration as they left the restaurant. Solana wobbled, then took a breath as Lantar caught her at the waist and steadied her.

"Thanks," she murmured. The vibration stopped, and for a moment she wondered if she was imagining things.

"No problem," Lantar said in a low voice. "I take it you felt that as well?"

So it wasn't her imagination then.

They strolled along through the main thoroughfare in this ward. Lights sparkled from the other arms of the Citadel, and there didn't look to be any more major blackouts. The lights of the ships patrolling the local space cruised back and forth.

They found a good vantage point, and she snuggled into his arms. There wasn't much foot traffic tonight, and the quiet was perfect.

 

And then she saw the blot of darkness.

Followed by the lights winking along the body of the Reaper.

Sparks of light, as the defense started up. She sucked in a breath, and Lantar's grip tightened. "Reapers," he whispered.

Indeed, Reapers. And more and more of them, as they dropped out of FTL and blocked out the lights from the other arms. "Spirits," Solana said. "They've come. They're fucking coming for us."

Lantar shook his head. "So this is it?" he said, his voice a squeak. "Everyone fights so hard and all they have to do is just drop right in on top of us?"

Solana's mind flickered back to the stories of the Reaper troops, twisted from their organic forms. "We need to get out of here," she said.

"There's nowhere to go!" Lantar said. "We'll never make it back to the ship in time—and what about your father? He's on the other end of the station. And if we can get away, what will we do?" He let go of her, reeled back, buried his face in his hands. "Would we just be floating out there in space, while everyone else dies? I don't—" He shook his head. "I can't die like that." He looked up. "I can't run anymore. I refuse."

"So let's at least find somewhere safe." Solana braced herself on her crutches, and pulled up her omnitool, finding a Citadel schematic in her C-Sec files. She quickly zeroed in on their location.

"There's a secure storage closet 500 meters in that direction." She gestured with her head. "Come on."

 

They huddled up in the storage closet, Solana's hacking tools making quick work of its security. It was mostly computer banks and spare parts hanging around, but it was a hiding spot. And it was safe. Solana made sure of it, adding a few extra layers of security to the lock. "They'd need to blow the door open to get to us," she said grimly. "I'm not sure we're worth that kind of effort."

Lantar just shook his head. There was a small window on the opposite wall, and he leaned up against it, peering out. "What's happening?" Solana asked.

There was a jolt, a movement that shook her world and turned her insides, and—

"They've taken us into FTL," she said. "Why? Where are we going?"

She leaned against the wall, huddled against Lantar, her reached out an arm and drew her in. They stood in silence for many minutes—she had no idea how long—there was no concept of time when the center of galactic civilization was being spirited away to an unknown destination and the fear pounded in her head and in her heart. She drew as close to Lantar as she could, taking in his heat. We're still alive, she told herself. That's got to count for something.

And then the travel stopped. "Where are we?" Lantar whispered.

She looked out the window. Reapers—and a fleet. "I don't know," she said, "but the Reapers have company."

Maybe there was some hope after all.

 

Hours passed. They gazed out the window. Ships darted back and forth, like the insects that darted on top of stream—in Solana's mind, it was like being a child again, playing in the water—watching small silver fish dart through the riffles as they broke over rocks. Turning up a stone and watching the things that lived underneath it dart away into the silt.

Sunlight, glinting off the stream. Small streaks of light. Like the guns firing. Silent from here, but no doubt to the denizens of the stream, noise and commotion aplenty.

"I don't want to die," she whispered into the silence.

Lantar shifted beside her. Like Garrus when they were little, trying to push her aside so he could watch the fish too. "You're Palaveni," he murmured. "Die For The Cause, and all that?"

Solana shook her head. Maybe shaking water out her fringe after Garrus pushed her into the stream. "That's bullshit, and we all know it."

He turned to look at her. Solana gazed into his face, wondering if this is what he'd looked like through Garrus's scope—wide open and vulnerable. Only the grace of some spirit had saved him, knowing Garrus. Relentless. He would never give up. He _would_ march into battle, and die for a cause. But only his own cause. Not someone else's.

But she and Lantar, they weren't like that. They could both live for a cause. Live, and fight for it.

But dying meant nothing to her, except futility.

Maybe this was all futile. The Crucible was docked. But nothing was happening. It looked dead.

Maybe it was dead.

Maybe they were like a fish that jumped up on the bank and couldn't get back in the water. Struggling. Furiously flapping its tail, its gills open wide—trying to breathe, but nothing to breathe, the small film of water that clung to its body not enough to give it life.

The fish wouldn't make it back by itself. But if there was no one there, no curious turian child on the banks of the stream on that day at that moment, then the fish's struggles would slow, life would leave its body, but fighting—still fighting the whole time. A living death.

In her memory, she reached out and pushed the fish back into the water. It flailed around for a moment, regaining its bearings, then swam away.

"Let's go home, Garrus," she said in her memory. "It's getting dark."

The golden streaks of light on the water turned red as the sun set.

Red.

Red like the Crucible.

She clapped a hand to her mouth and grabbed Lantar's arm. "Look!"

The Crucible exploded in light. Solana squeezed her eyes shut. The floor under them shook. She fell against Lantar. They hit the floor together.

Everything went black. A siren started wailing in the hallway.

She found Lantar's hand and squeezed it. You here? He squeezed back. Yeah, I'm here.

Her eyes adjusted to the dark. Pinpricks of light glinted out in space.

The ships.

Their ships.

And in between those spots of light, floating in the blackness—the remains of the Reapers.

"I—I think we made it." Lantar's voice was pitched high.

"Yeah," she whispered, then lunged forward and crushed him in a hug. "Spirits," she whispered. "It's over."

He let out a breath that was almost a laugh of relief. "It's over." He squeezed her back, burying his face in her neck, his mandibles and exhaled breath tickling her skin.

"Lantar?"

"Hmm?"

"I know everything might change after this. But I want to stay with you."

He looked up, and she could see the glint of wetness in his eyes. "I want that too."

She wondered if the stream on Palaven was still there. Still, if it wasn't, there would be other streams. Life would go on, and all the worlds in the galaxy would keep changing. Water would still run over rocks, and silver fish would still swim through the current.

Maybe one day she and Lantar would stand on the banks of a stream, watching the water catch the light. And she'd think back to this moment, and let the sound of water carry away her despair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Castis does live, I just couldn't figure out how to work him into the last bit of the story. :)


End file.
